-=J.K. Rowling created a world in which my bliss resides.=-

AN/ Ha! Chapter 2 up! Flog me if it isn't to my usual standard. InDreams520 this one's for you!

The War Won't Stop

Drawing Lines

"Negotiate? You don't want to negotiate." Hermione made a shooing motion toward Snape. "You want...well whatever your sick mind wants. I think you made yourself perfectly clear, now if you'll excuse me I'm going." She flung the door open.

"Ms. Granger, your 'Gryffindor' is showing." Snape steepled his fingers. "My needs are many and varied, you shouldn't be so presumptuous."

Hermione gave him a filthy look. "You said..."

"I said I could find a use for you. If you spread your legs for me, I'd gladly 'see to you.' Don't presume to think I'm so limited as that. I'm sure you have much to offer. So Ms. Granger will you negotiate?" Snape adjusted himself, it was enough to make Hermione burp vomit.

She pointed a stiff finger at him. "Listen you sick bastard, I am not a toy. And like I said you can't make any guarantees. Unlike you, I have feelings and a sense of right and wrong." She planted hands on hips.

Snape grinned, "Ms. Granger your flattery overwhelms me." Waving her back over to the sofa. "I've been subject to torture, rape, and the Cruciatus curse more times than I can count. I assure you, I know something about Post Traumatic Stress." There was an air of pride in his statement.

Hermione didn't think she'd brag about such a thing. However it did go far in illustrating Snape's survival skills. "So what are you saying? You don't expect me to 'spread my legs,' as you say? Pardon me for saying so, but I can't imagine you'd want to do anything but DEBASE ME!"

Snape shivered. I love it when you raise your voice. "Again with the flattery. Flattery may get you somewhere but it won't get you everywhere." His eyelids closed and opened slowly. "I am reasonably sure I can get Potter back to the land of the living. I'll need to know more about the symptoms he's been experiencing before I can accurately decide the best course." Summoning a quill and parchment.

"I want your Wizard's Oath. I don't want you to breathe a word to anyone." Hermione felt defensive on Harry's part.

"Must be serious, invoking the Wizard's Oath." Snape leered at Hermione. "Perhaps I've underestimated the situation." Though Hermione could be overestimating the situation.

"Shut up, are you going to take the Oath or not?" Hermione snapped.

"I will." He was lazily confident.

"Do you swear not to say anything to anyone about what I tell with regard to Harry?" Hermione sat down arms crossed protectively.

"I do." Snape promised. Hermione told him everything, putting emphasis on the stuff that wasn't printed in the paper. She was dubious about his need to know. "So, it's a standard case. It's best to know as much as possible when tackling this sort of metal illness. Isn't that the way of it Ms. Granger?" Putting away his writing implements, "so, Ms. Granger before I help Potter we need to come to some sort of agreement as to payment."

Seizing on this line of reasoning. "I have money Professor Snape."

Snape clarified. "I am not your professor, Ms. Granger. My name is Severus Snape," he hissed, "as well you know."

"Have money. I can pay you in gold." Doggedly perusing the money angle.

"Money may make the world go round, however it won't help Mr. Potter get better." Snape chuckled. "So I'll ask you again Ms. Granger. What would you be willing to do to get Mr. Potter better?"

Apprehension and anger fought for purchase. Friendship was more important than anything, and Harry had willingly walked into death for her and the rest of the Wizarding World. But Snape wanted her. Her skin crawled.

Snape was cheerfully patient. "Ms. Granger, I'm waiting."

"You know I really hate you." She flapped a hand in exasperation.

"Your flattery does wonders for my ego. I never knew you felt so strongly about me. It's touching."

Just so long as it's not me doing the touching. "I'll give you my brownstone if you can get Harry better, or my Order of Merlin First Class. Beyond that I can't imagine what you could want."

"Haven't I already said that being a woman you have some intrinsic use." He reached over to her and slid the back of a finger down her cheek. Hermione cringed and considered biting it, but that would create more contact.

"You want me to compromise myself, you can't make any guarantees as to when, how or to what extent Harry can be healed."

"There you go with the 'promises.' Promises, promises you want promises too."

"Yes, I do." Hermione demanded.

"Certainly. I will promise to mend Mr. Potter as much as is possible. I will owl you with my terms and conditions." Standing and walking to the door, he held it open for her. "Good day, Ms. Granger."